Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Slovenia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Smoke to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quadrant record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sparks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ponytail,
John Foxx,
Visage,
Scratch Acid,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sparks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Aural Exciters,
Man Eating Sloth,
Slave,
Arab on Radar,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ronnie Foster,
Todd Terry,
Saccharine Trust,
The Litter,
B.T. Express,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Michelle Simonal,
Black Flag,
The Smoke,
Outsiders,
Porter Ricks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Cure,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Unrelated Segments,
Shuggie Otis,
The Doobie Brothers,
Black Bananas,
Hoover,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Quadrant,
Robert Görl,
Kaleidoscope,
Davy DMX,
Buzzcocks,
Can,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Morten Harket,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Donald Byrd,
Brothers Johnson,
Joensuu 1685,
Wolf Eyes,
Alice Coltrane,
Bauhaus,
Jandek,
The Cowsills,
Con Funk Shun,
Black Sheep,
Subhumans,
Jesper Dahlback,
Grey Daturas,
K-Klass,
Arcadia,
Warsaw,
the Association,
The Fugs,
Vainqueur,
Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.